


Come Home To Me

by Mystery_Name



Category: Spider-Gwen (Comics), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Angst, Emotions, F/F, Gobin and Spider-Man team-up, Goblin is a good guy, Goblin!Gwen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter is a chemical engineer not a doctor, Spider-Man!Harry, adult characters, alternate dimension based on one of Spider-Gwens multiverse comics, patching up your superhero boyfriend, universe where Harry is bitten by the spider
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mystery_Name/pseuds/Mystery_Name
Summary: Peter Parker was having a normal late-night in his lab when he's interrupted by his best friend dragging his boyfriend through the door, both bleeding all over the place. Peter reflects on his life as Harry's designated doctor and the worries and stresses of dating a superhero.
Relationships: Gwen Stacy/Mary Jane Watson, Harry Osborn/Peter Parker, Mary Jane Watson/Gwen Stacy, Peter Parker/Harry Osborn
Comments: 6
Kudos: 47





	Come Home To Me

**Author's Note:**

> A one-shot based on one of the universes that Spider-Gwen/Ghost Spider has visited in her multi-verse comic where Harry was the one bitten by the radioactive spider and Gwen became a hero known as Goblin, his partner in crime-fighting. I made it Parksborn because the comic had major Parksborn vibes and I just love MJ and Gwen together.
> 
> Originally written for the Spectacular Spider-Man discord server, but I decided I may as well post it here too.

This isn't how things were supposed to be.

When he and Gwen accepted the internship, this isn't what Peter expected to be doing.

"Clear the table," Gwen shouted, pushing the doors open with a half-conscious, very _bloody_ Harry Osborn in her arms.

Peter didn't waste a second. The progress he was having on the spider-venom samples he quickly swept to the side and shoved the equipment he'd been using to the far end. He barely had everything moved by the time Gwen was laying Harry across the table.

"What happened?" he asked, pulling out the hefty, and might he add, quite thorough First Aid kit he's been stocking up ever since Harry and Gwen came back from their first night out super-heroing, with scrapes and bruises to match.

"Sandman," Gwen huffed, ripping off her helmet and throwing it onto the couch. "That's the third time this week. Why can't we just _get_ this guy already?"

"What'd he do?" Peter said, peeking through the slashes and tears in Harry's costume to get an idea of what he needed, "Put him through a blender?"

"He may as well have," Gwen huffed, collapsing on the bench next to Peter and sifting through the First Aid and laying out the basic supplies he'd need; antiseptic, gauze, and tweezers, to name a few. "He swept up all this broken glass from the jewelry store and funneled it around in this sand twister thing. He was going for me, but Harry pushed me out of the way and got sucked in."

Peter hissed through his teeth, "Yeah, blender it is," he winced. "Here, help me cut away the shirt. There's no getting it off without hurting Harry, and it's not salvageable anyway." He'd just have to make a new one.

He never thought picking up sewing from his aunt would come in useful like this.

Gwen held Harry steady as Peter cut the spandex open and peeled it away in strips. The damage got worse the more it was revealed and Peter felt an upset in his stomach at the long gashes littering Harry's body like poor art. Blood was already drying on his skin, some of it was still new and seeping, but if he didn't get those glass shards out they were going to be healed over and that was a bitch to dig up. They learned that lesson the hard way.

They were just pulling the last of the shirt away when MJ burst into the door, red hair blown and tangled, and a robe thrown over her pajamas. She'd probably been headed to bed when she got the distress call and Peter couldn't blame her seeing how it was nearly midnight.

"Gwen," she sighed in relief, then her eyes flickered to the table, " _Harry_! What happened?"

Peter focused on disinfecting the tweezers and mentally preparing to dig through Harry's body for glass like an archaeologist for old treasures, as Gwen explained what happened behind him. He tuned them out, adjusting his glasses on his nose, and got started on the cuts already in the healing process.

With each new shard he picked out, he put it in a growing pile in the garbage next to the table, and with each new dip of the tweezers, Harry shifted in his unconsciousness, face twisting and body fidgeting in discomfort. Peter cast him an apologetic glance as he pulled a large shard out of his side and pressed a cloth against the wound. Fuck, was that one going to need stitches? Peter has only ever stitched him up two times before, and he did not want to make it a third. He already didn't feel confident in the YouTube video he had to look up on the medical practice, he didn't want to be responsible for his boyfriend's internal bleeding too.

Harry groaned in his sleep and Peter gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

"Almost done," he murmured, which was a lie. He was only halfway done with his front upper body, not including his back, nor his legs, which had been cut up as well. "How are you going to bluff your way out of this one?"

"With a whole lot of lying and a little bit of luck," Gwen answered in Harry's stead as MJ fretted over her bloody knuckles and scraped-up knees. There was a large gash on her arm as well, and Peter was suddenly very aware of how she'd been careful to keep her arms tucked in so Peter couldn't see it.

He shot her a baleful look, letting on that he knew of her deception, but passed the antiseptic and gauze to her with nothing but a "Don't do that again."

"Harry needed medical attention more than me," was her response.

"Don't care," Peter said, hunching over Harry's abdomen, eyebrows pinched and tweezers ready, "I'm going to sentence you both to superhero time out if you start hiding injuries."

Gwen nodded to humor him because _really_ Peter couldn't do a damn thing to stop them, but in the glare that MJ cast her, and the apologetic grimace that graced Gwen's face soon after, Peter was pretty sure MJ would back him on the hero-sentencing.

The following minutes ticked on in silence. MJ was done attending to Gwen's wounds in no time and she helped her back to her feet with soft words, "Come on, let's get you to bed."

"I'm not leaving Harry."

"He'll be fine," Peter said, not even looking up from his work, "You're exhausted, Gwen. I'll look after Harry, you go get some sleep."

Which was true. Gwen looked tired. Her eyes drooped and her body was slack; she looked seconds away from passing out on the floor. Still, she hesitated, casting Harry a guilty look.

"It wasn't your fault," Peter insisted, "Harry was the dumbass who got sucked into a glass tornado. Go sleep and we can all give him the patented _stop-throwing-yourself-into-danger-and-taking-years-off-Peter-Parker's-life_ talk _._ He'll be fine."

Gwen worried over the decision regardless until MJ softly nudged her and swept a strand of hair out of her eyes, "Come on, hero," she whispered, looping her arms around Gwen's waist and shoulders, "The world will be fine for another night."

They left with little fanfare.

Peter was just finishing the last of the cuts from Harry's upper torso and was wondering how he was going to get to his back with as little pain as possible, when Harry began to stir. First little twitches, then fluttering eyes as he was brought back to the land of the living, then the hiss and groan of pain as he fully woke up.

"And a good evening to you too," Peter said, pressing a hand to Harry's chest when he tried sitting up.

"Peter?" Harry murmured, casting a confused look around, "Where am…who…w-where's-" clarity slowly dawned in his eyes.

"Easy," Peter soothed anyway, "You're fine. You're back in my lab. MJ took Gwen home already, she's fine too."

Harry slumped back down, then hissed sharply. Peter winced. "Yeah, I need to get to your back. But first, I should probably see to your front legs now that I think about it. Do you think you can pull your pants off or do they need to be cut away?"

Harry shifted his body, as if getting a feel of his injuries, and he twisted up into pain immediately. "Cut away," he said on a stiff choke.

Peter picked up the scissors, adding a new pair of spandex pants to his to-do list. The legs were bad, but not as much as the torso had been. He wiped off the tweezers, disinfected them again, and got to work.

"What happened?" Harry asked, wincing as the tweezers went down.

"You got sucked into a glass tornado," Peter stiffly said, unable to soften the hard edge he'd been hiding from Gwen. "Cut yourself up. Bleeding all over. Slowly dying on my table. You know, the usual."

"Uh…" at least Harry has the good sense to look apologetic. "Sorry?"

Peter only felt a little bad when he applied rubbing alcohol to one of the worse wounds and Harry seized up, teeth-gritting and hands shooting down to grab the table to keep himself steady.

"Very sorry," he corrected, squeezing his eyes shut. "Uggh, that's not fun."

"About as fun as digging glass out of your boyfriends' body? Cause that's not a lot of fun either. In fact, it's the very opposite of fun. On a scale of discovering new elements to digging glass out of your boyfriends' unconscious body, it's _digging fucking glass out of your boyfriends' unconscious body_."

"Whoa, hey," Harry sat up, despite the way it made him look like he was trying to pass a kidney stone, "g _uuh –_ okay, okay – _ow fuck –_ okay," he grabbed Peter's hands and craned his neck to try to look at Peter, who was stubbornly staring at the opposite wall, the tweezers so tight in his hand it was making his knuckles white. "Peter? Come on, look at me?"

"No," was the stubborn reply, "Lay back down, I'm not finished yet."

"You're mad."

"No shit. Lay down."

"Come on, Peter, what was I supposed to do? Let Gwen get sucked up into that mess?"

"Of course not," Peter said hotly, finally looking at him, albeit with a rather deadly look in his eyes, "I appreciate you keeping my best friend from getting turned into minced meat, and I'm sure Gwen appreciates it too, and MJ, but you happened to get _yourself_ turned into mincemeat in the process. Now lay down before I tie you to this table, and don't even _try_ making a joke about that, cause I _will_ laugh, and I don't want to be amused right now."

Harry allowed Peter to push him down so he could get back to work. He didn't say anything until Peter was tossing the last of the glass in the garbage and ordering him to lay on his stomach to attend to his back.

"I'm sorry," He said, catching Peter's hand in his two bloodied ones, and squeezing softly, "I'm sorry for worrying you and bleeding all over your table."

Peter managed to keep the firm, resolute look on his face for only a few seconds before it crumbled and he squeezed Harry's hand back.

"You…you need to be more careful," he said, wrestling the words out of his throat, "You can't keep coming back to me half dead. I can't keep this up," he gestured to the scattered First Aid kit, "One of these days you're going to need to go to an _actual_ hospital, and then what are you going to do?"

Harry smiled and pressed a soft kiss to Peter's knuckles, "You always do a good job patching me up."

Peter's expression is deadpanned and unflattered, "I'm a biologist, Har. A chemical engineer on my good days. I'm _not_ a doctor. Nor am I cut out for this."

"I think you don't give yourself enough credit."

"I think you give me _too_ much credit."

Harry grabbed Peter's other hand, the one holding the bloodied tweezers and pulled him closer. Peter allows himself to be pulled in Harry's embrace, despite the blood stains he's going to abhor getting out of his clothes later.

"I'm sorry," Harry repeated, "It's unfair to put you in this position."

 _Curse you,_ Peter thinks, _curse you and your stupid personality and your stupid hero complex, and the stupid way I can't stay mad at you_.

His head plopped onto Harry's shoulder with as much grace and caution as he could manage. Harry chuckled and Peter made a noise into his shoulder, poking an uninjured part of his leg. The muscle was very firm and damn if superheroing didn't give you fine legs in the process.

 _Curse your glutes and your thighs,_ he added as an afterthought.

"I'll try to be more careful," Harry said.

"You said that last time."

"Well, I'll try even _harder_ now."

There were a dozen things Peter could say. Things ranging from " _I don't think I can take watching you keep hurting yourself anymore"_ to _"I love you so damn much Harry Theopolis Osborn, if you ever leave me I'll fill all your socks with worms."_

He settled on, "Okay." He selfishly let Harry hold him for a minute longer before pulling away and wiping at his nose, "Okay, turn around. I need to get your back."

Harry grinned and gave a "Yes sir," as he turned over.

"I'm glad you're okay," Peter whispered as he disinfected the tweezers once more and got to work.

Harry hummed, reaching out and rubbing Peter's coat sleeve between his fingers, "Me too," he murmured, "Thanks for patching me up, Pete."

Peter smiled, "Thanks for coming back to me."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you enjoyed!


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